The Ways of Elves and Bikers
by luvscharlie
Summary: St. Mungo's needs elves to assist Father Christmas in their annual event for the children at the hospital. Tonks recruits an assistant with a not-so-charitable demeanor. Charlie/Tonks


_The Ways of Elves and Bikers_ by Luvscharlie

_Warnings: Crack (So. Much. Crack.), fellatio, things your mother should never see, and elf ears (cause seriously, when there are elf ears in a fic, they should be warned for)  
_  
"You give me back my wand right this minute, Nym-pha-dor-a!" Charlie shouted, dragging out every syllable to irritate her more while coming around the side of the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place. Tonks nimbly kept her distance by skirting the other way, always staying just out of his reach.

She yawned in a way she knew would annoy him most. "Yes, because calling me that _always_ works wonders to get your way with me, mate."

The bells on the curly tips of Charlie's shoes jingled as he made his way after her again, nearly falling in the blasted slick things. He attempted to pull the shoes off, but they wouldn't budge. They were firmly magicked onto him. "Argh, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."

"Now Charlie," Tonks said, the picture of nonchalance. "You know you don't mean that. And seriously," she said, motioning to her own garb with a sweeping gesture, cute blouse, short skirt, a green hat with a little white ball on the end, tights to match and a cute pair of buckle shoes, "it's not as though I'm not dressed like you. You could even say we're a matching set." She vanished his wand quickly as he lunged across the table in a desperate attempt to reclaim it.

"Blast it all, Tonks. Give me back my bloody wand. First of all, we aren't dressed anything alike. You're all cute and elfish. I look like—like I was standing to close to where the elves are housed at the North Pole when there was a terrible explosion and various bits of their clothing landed on me and stuck."

"Blimey, you are a testy boy this evening. Just destined to make it on Father Christmas' naughty list this year. I'll give you back your wand after you do what I asked. Come on, Charlie, it's for the children at St. Mungo's. It's horrible to be sick on Christmas. Poor little buggers. Don't you want to see how happy a visit from Father Christmas makes them?"

"Oh, no you don't! I don't appreciate being between that proverbial rock and hard place. If I say no, I sound like a heartless cad. If I say yes, other people get to see me in this ridiculous costume. For Merlin's sake, it has braces," Charlie said, flipping the elastic holding up the short pants that ended at mid thigh. "Have a heart, Tonks. Don't make me go out in public dressed like an elf."

Charlie gave himself a good looking over and gasped when he noted that his right arm and left calf, both of which had been inked since he was seventeen and finally away from his mother's ever observant eye, were once more bare, unmarked flesh. "Oi!" Charlie called out. "Where the hell are my tattoos? My dragons, my babies, they're gone! Do you know how fucking much it hurt getting those? And now, one wiggle of your wand, and they're gone!"

"Honestly Charlie, what did you expect? Father Christmas hires elves _not_ bikers. Do you want to scare the poor children? I can just see the headlines in the _Prophet_ now: _Biker Elf terrifies children at St. Mungo's Christmas Event; Pandemonium ensues._ We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Charlie bit his lip and clenched his fists, reminding himself that when she wasn't obviously insane (which she clearly was today), he actually rather liked Tonks. They'd been best mates for all the years they had gone to school together and had stayed in contact over the years after he'd gone away to Romania… and that contact had been rather close, as in skin-to-skin… a lot. Were it not for the distance, he might even consider… there was no point in thinking about it though. Charlie shook his head as though to shake loose these troubling stray thoughts. There were problems at hand to deal with; green short pants and braces and pointed ears— elf-type problems. He and Tonks had chosen different paths, and with the war brewing, re-kindling this old flame as anything more than casual, simply wasn't smart.

"I don't _want_ to do any of this, which I frankly thought I'd been pretty clear about." Charlie would have gone on about all the reasons he didn't want to do this, aside from the quite obvious one that he looked like a nutter, but he didn't get the chance.

The Floo lit up with a whoosh and Bill stepped out, took one look at his little brother and began clutching his side with one arm and seeking purchase on the nearest counter to keep himself upright as he belly-laughed with the other. He pointed in Charlie's general direction, laughed so hard he shook, then clutched his side again as tears began to stream down his face.

"Oh, you're just the helpful one, aren't you?" Tonks asked, hands on hips, eyes glaring in Bill's direction. "I'm trying to convince him that this is a good, charitable thing to do for the children, so stop it. You're only making things worse."

"Fucking hell," Charlie grumbled as Bill muttered something between giggles. A camera appeared in mid-air and the flash began going off rapidly. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Charlie made a grab for the camera, stumbled in the ridiculous curled elf shoes, bells on the ends tinkling madly, and Bill took protective possession of the camera with a quick grab.

Bill tucked the camera safely under his arm and streaked toward the fireplace with new purpose… a purpose Charlie didn't much care to think about.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Charlie shouted, making a clumsy attempt to stumble after him.

"Only to show these pictures to everyone I've ever known—and more importantly everyone you've ever known. Good work, Tonks!" Bill gave her a thumbs up signal and shot into the fireplace before Charlie could pound him into oblivion, threw down the Floo powder and vanished away. The echo of Bill's laughter could still be heard long after he'd gone.

Charlie tried his best to get the garments to come off, but whatever Sticking Charm Tonks had used was one she'd clearly spent a good deal of time perfecting. To put it bluntly, he was arse over teakettle out of luck.

Sort of.

An idea had formed. He stood up a little straighter, rather proud of himself for this brilliant idea. "I'm not going." He said the words slow and loud, doing his best not to sound like a whinging child, but to his own dismay found that he failed a little.

"Of course you're going. Don't be ridiculous. I didn't go to all this trouble for you to stay home. I'll only just Apparate us both there with my hands firmly around your neck, if I have to."

Charlie smirked. He knew he had her bested, only she hadn't realised it yet. He watched her face for signs and broke into a full-fledged smile when her lips curled down in concentration and he knew that realisation had dawned clear.

"Oh, you bastard."

"My mother would disagree with your choice of terminology, Nymphadora. I'm relatively certain she and Dad were hitched when I came along. Now with Bill—well, we've always speculated." Tonks couldn't Apparate them both with the newly enforced wards Moody had placed over Grimmauld Place and the Floo there at Headquarters had been disconnected from most public places as it would be too easy for a Death Eater to access it and find where the Order was holed up. St. Mungo's happened to be one of those public places. For once, Charlie said a silent, but grateful, thank you to Moody's obsession for constant vigilance. It was serving him well this evening.

"Char---leeee, don't be that way. I've already signed us up, and they won't have enough people to help out if we don't show."

She had resorted to begging. He felt certain his victory was imminent; his humiliation at a close… That's the funny thing about winning an argument with Tonks: just when you thought you were about to win, that bloody fucking conscience swoops in and removes that soon-to-be victory right from your grasp. _Dammit!_ He couldn't leave them short-handed. The war looming outside the confines of this house had the Wizarding world in a black state, and at least one day a year children deserved to think of nothing else but presents and Father Christmas and, much to his chagrin, elves. _Bloody hell!_

"Come on, Charlie. I'll do anything you want."

_Anything?_ Well, now. This put a whole new spin on things. If he was going to have to bear the utter humiliation that went with this elf suit, he might as well get something out of it… I mean she was offering after all.

Tonks seemed to realise where his mind had strayed; of course she'd always seemed to have a second sense when it came to what he was thinking. She backed him up against the wall and kissed him. Her tongue licked its way across his lips and dipped quickly and briefly inside his mouth, teasing him. "Tell me what you want, Charlie," she whispered.

He tried to speak. Really, he did. But his tongue felt heavy and the words kept tripping up and refusing to form correctly, so that all he could manage was an unbecoming noise that sounded like a cross between a snort and a cough. _You do know how to woo the women, Weasley!_ He cursed under his breath at the thought of how inept his skills had gotten since spending so much time with dragons—or handlers who made the dragons look attractive. Yes, women on the Reserve were not what Charlie considered even remotely beddable. Between the scars, the burns and the facial hair, he'd opt for his left hand every single time. His left hand wasn't liable to scare him the next morning when he sobered up… he couldn't say the same for the female handlers.

"Earth to Charlie," Tonks said, waving her hand in front of his face with a look on her own that would have turned lesser men's stomachs in fear. "What the hell is wrong with you? Here I am offering myself to you, and you go and stare off into space?" She thunked him sharply on the forehead.

"I'm sorry." His lip curled up. "Offering your self to me, eh? I do like the sound of that." Charlie teased at the top button of her blouse, rolling it between his finger and thumb, his face close to hers. He leaned in and nipped her chin, kissing his way up her jaw, and biting at her ear as he whispered into it. "Of course, there's really not much I can do with that offer, since I can't get these clothes off." It was worth a try. Not only did he want her, but he really, really wanted to be shod of this ridiculous costume. He didn't mind helping out at St. Mungo's, but he'd rather not do it in these clothes. He'd keep the ears; he rather liked the ears, but the braces had to go… and the shoes. Definitely the shoes.

Tonks ruffled his hair, running her hands down his shoulders and chest as she went down on her knees before him. "Don't worry about that, Charlie. Your zipper still works," she said. "I figured you'd need to wee at some time during the day, so I had to leave that part functional."

_Damn her! She really had thought of everything._ "Your consideration for my needs is overwhelming," Charlie said, taking great care to inflect his voice with as much sarcasm as possible.

"I knew you would appreciate my looking out for you," she said, tugging down the zipper as though to demonstrate its functionality. The way she ran her tongue over her candy cane striped lips (which even he had to admit were a nice touch) when she looked up at him made it clear this was no demonstration. She had a clear direction of purpose. "I am a _very_ considerate girl." She stretched out the words, speaking only above a whisper, and Charlie felt his flesh go bumpy and a chill run up his spine. Tonks was his kind of elf! The naughty kind.

He tried to reply with something equally witty, but his tongue put up another stalwart protest and refused to allow any sound to leave his mouth. Tonks' hand slipped inside his costume and palmed him. "No pants, eh, Charlie?" She shook her head and grinned, tongue slipping out to wet her lips. "Same old Charlie."

She freed him from the confines of his elf suit and raised up on her knees, her tongue flicking over the head of his cock. He moaned and quivered, struggling for purchase against the counter because his knees felt weak.

She laughed. "You haven't changed a bit. That always was your undoing."

"On—only—Merlin, I think you've exploded my brain. It's not working anymore. I can't even think straight." Charlie took a deep breath. "Only when it's you doing it." That wasn't true, and she knew it— and he knew she knew it. But he felt like he was _supposed_ to say it. Didn't birds want to hear that?

"Liar," she said with a wink.

He had almost forgotten. Tonks, she wasn't like most girls. He didn't have to pretend with her. He allowed himself the privilege of relaxing, and simply enjoying this (after all ridicule was sure to follow, which would be all her fault, so he might as well get some compensation for the damage his pride would sustain).

She licked her lips again to tease him, and took the head of his cock between them, twirling her tongue over him. His heart thumped in triple time and his pulse was racing when she cupped his sac, gently kneading. She applied gentle pressure as she pursed her lips around him and began to suckle, drawing him into the warm heat of her mouth again and again.

With Tonks' ministrations, he could almost forget the humiliation that was to follow. After all it wouldn't be _that bad_. Nothing could be that bad when Tonks was sucking him into sweet oblivion. He fisted his hand into her hair as he felt his balls tighten. He was so close. He wanted to watch. Wanted to see his seed shoot across her face. She knew he liked that; had no doubt that was what she planned.

Then it happened.

He thought he had reached his highest level of mortification for the day.

He was so very wrong.

It was really indescribable how it feels to be working your hips back and forth, in and out, sinking your cock into the warmth of Tonks' sweet mouth, and then hear "Charles Prewett Weasley!" in a tone of voice that no one can replicate but your mother. Want to know what it does to your wanger? If you guessed shrivels it like a prune, you'd be correct.

Mum stood there stunned for a minute (or maybe that was me—shock sort of stretches out time, if you know what I mean), then she didn't hesitate to cuff Charlie a good one right on the ear. And apparently, when your ears have been magicked to pointed tips it hurts a lot more. Who knew? Charlie didn't think his ear would ever stop ringing.

"Whatever do you think you're doing? This is not the way I raised you. Disrespecting a perfectly nice young lady like our Nymphadora."

And she cuffed him again.

And it _hurt_!

_The hell?_ "A perfectly nice young lady? This was all her idea! I didn't—"

_Thwap_

Another blow to his already ringing ear.

"And lying!" Molly gasped and clutched her chest as though wounded. "Charlie Weasley, if you don't get out of my sight this instant, I will not be responsible for what I do to you."

"But Mum—"

"Don't you 'but Mum' me, mister. Just look. The whole Order is here to witness this disgrace. I am utterly humiliated."

_She was humiliated? She wasn't the one with her Mr. Winky hanging out for all the world to see!_

Charlie did his best to calm himself. No easy feat, that. After getting over the shock of his mother walking in, and tucking himself back as he attempted to avoid anyone's eyes, Charlie looked up to see that not only was his family there to bear witness to his mortification, his mother wasn't exaggerating. The entire Order was there, some smirking behind their hands. Some openly laughing at him. Bill stood in front of them all grinning from ear to ear. _The bastard!_ This was his fault, and Charlie knew it.

"You did this!" Charlie shouted, lunging for his brother's throat.

Kingsley and Remus moved quickly to intervene, each grabbing one of Charlie's arms to hold him back.

"I just brought them to see your get up; reckoned nobody should miss that. I didn't know there was going to be a show." Bill ended his sentence with a chuckle that other Order members echoed.

Kingsley patted Charlie on the shoulder in an attempt at consoling him, then grinned. "Love the shoes, man."

"I'll be sure to loan them to you." Charlie made another lunge at Bill, but the bastard was too fast. The crowd of Order members opened up allowing Bill to hide at the back, out of Charlie's reach.

"Come on, Charlie," Tonks said. Her voice was barely a whisper. "We need to get going. They're expecting us at St. Mungo's."

Bill's voice rose from the back of the pack. "While you're there, you might get them to see what they can do about lengthening your todger. That wee thing you're sporting is a disgrace to the Weasley name."

"That's it!" Charlie said, rushing forward and shoving people aside. "You are so dead!"

Molly shook her head and looked to Arthur for assistance. "_This_ is what we've raised. Where did we go wrong with them? I mean, I was a good mother, wasn't I?"

Arthur hugged her consolingly. "Yes of course, dear."

_A/N: This was originally written for the prompt of Costumes for the November 2009 entry on Daily_deviant at Insane Journal._


End file.
